Lost Cause - Discontinued
by CollectiveMinds
Summary: Peter had always had depression, but now with the death of his only remaining family member he begins to fall into a pit of pain and suffering. Will Peter meet his end or will someone come and be his saving grace? Rated M. Trigger Warning: Depression, Self Harm and harsh langue. (Discontinued. Is Re-uploaded under the same name.)
1. Breaking Point

**Breaking Point**

Everyone has their breaking point, and he finally reached his. He lost everyone. He had no one. He stared at the razor that laid in the palm of his hand. With a shaky fingers, he held it to his wrist. This wasn't the first time, but it always felt like it. Taking a breath, he cut for everyone he'd fail, or in his mind, everyone he killed. Peter thought back as he made his first cut. His parents, Uncle Ben, Norman and Harry Osborn, Doctor Connor, Doc Oct, Captain Stacy, Gwen and now Aunt May. Everyone he cared about was dead. Everyone he tried to protect died, and it his fault.

After 9 cuts later, Peter stared at the blood pooling on his wrist. Mesmerized by the crimson liquid, he realized he felt nothing. This should hurt, but it didn't. Coming to his senses, he cleaned his wrist with water from the sink and wrapped it in some gauze. Once all traces of blood had disappeared, he tucked the razor in his pocket and left the bathroom. Upon entering the sleeping quarters, he laid down and began to remember the events of the past few days.

 _It had been like every other day. Dressed in his costume, he swung from building to building. His standard patrol, that is in till he caught word of a robbery in process at a bank. He rushed over, only to hear a sudden gun fire and see he Aunt fall to the ground. She had been the only casualty. The second his eyes landed on her he left. Mourning silently, he returned home for the night._

 _It wasn't until hours after did he finally have the Child Protective Services show up at his door and received the news. He knew it was coming, but had hope it was all a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. He, a 15 year old freshman at Mid Town High, had just lost every person he care about in less than two years. Everything went by so fast. Too fast._

Being pulled out of thought, Peter looked out the window of the orphanage that they'd shoved him in. With all that has happened his anxiety skyrocketed and his nightly activities got cut down, which in turn made his anxiety worse. He rubbed the wrist that contained the newest cuts. To Peter, cutting wasn't anything new, just something he hadn't done in a while. Despite his efforts to stop, he always found his way back to the razor. He wasn't sure if this was just his way of punishing himself for failing or if it just brought him comfort, but in the end, it helped. Turning in his bed, he closed his eyes and wish for sleep that would never come. Tomorrow was another day, and little did he know it would change his life.

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End of Chapter One

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 **Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! More to come soon, promise!**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	2. Dark Thoughts

**Dark Thoughts**

Eventually, Peter decided that sleep wasn't going to come, no matter how hard he tried. Slowly pulling himself out of the bed, he glances at the clock by his bedside. 4:34 am. Heading to the bathroom, he thought back to when he considered 4:30 to be too late, as that would be the time he finishes his patrol, rather than being too early, which it is.

Locking the door, he sat down on the edge of the tub and slowly removes the gauze. The cuts that scattered his left wrist became red and angry. At least, the bleeding stopped sometime during the night. Figuring he might as well get ready for school, he turned on the shower. Before stepping into the stream of water, he turned his attention back to the mirror. Looking at the reflection that stared back at him, he began to notice slight changes in his appearance. His skin looked paler, his eyes had dark bag underneath, and his eyes looked glassy and clouded. He didn't look away from the other person until the mirror filled with steam, proceeding to snap out of his trance and got into the shower.

Grabbing the towel that hung from the shower curtain, Peter started to dry off. Discarding the towel, he reached for his change of clothes of the counter by the sink. His clothing selection consisted of a long-sleeved gray shirt that Peter had cut holes into so his could slip in thumbs into the sleeves. By doing so, he didn't have to worry about his cuts showing because his thumbs would hold the fabric in place. He also had a pair of worn out blue jeans that stopped just above the ankle. The dirt infused fabric's age had been clearly apparent based on the rip and tears that litter the cloth.

Walking out of the bathroom, he realized he didn't have his backpack. He always brought his clothes and his bag to the bathroom with him because he had to share a room in this dump called an orphanage with three other boys. The first reason being out of privacy and second was because the brats he shared with are extremely curious and had tried to search through his items in the past.

Quickening his pace, he crossed the hallway and appeared outside his designated bedroom. Carefully, Peter opened the door slowly and quietly in case it had been anxiety going off and the others were asleep. Entering the room, he looked into the darkness he let out a breath of relief. The gremlins that he called roommates remained asleep and his bag untouched.

Walking over to the bed, he grabbed the item of interested and opened it slowly. Looking into it, he began to feel sick. Even in the darkened room, his costume stood out like a sore thumb. The red color of the fabric seems to lighten up the room as if it was a light source. Swallowing his guilt, he dropped his razor inside and quickly zipped the bag back up and slung it over his shoulder. It was too early to go to school, but he didn't want to stay here either. Leaving the room, he silently climbed down the stairs, slipped his shoes on and grabbed his skateboard.

Exiting the building, he placed on his board on the ground and set course for the school. Feeling the wind hit him as he rode, he began to feel better, but with his luck, it's only at matter of time till that feeling went away. Once he was a block from the school, he pulled out his phone to check the time. 6:03 am. Peter had plenty of time to kill before he needed to be at school. Normally, he would suit up and swing around on patrol. But, for the moment being, that was off the table. He could barely look at the suit, much less put it on.

After a minute of so, he found a dark alleyway. Making sure no one was around, he scaled the side of his chosen random building and sat on the edge of the roof. With legs dangling off the ledge, he wondered what wound happen if he happened to jump. His web shooters had been tucked away with his costume, so if he did indulge, there'd be no going back. Gazing down at the ground below, his phone went off before he could make up his mind. Pulling the electronic devise from his pocket, he found the source of the noise was his school alarm.

7:00 a.m. Had he truly been up here for an hour? Dreading what awaited him, he climbed down the building with ease.

From what Peter could tell, today was going to be another bad day, then again, when wasn't it? Instead of going to first period, he decided to stop by his locker then head to the library. This wasn't the first time he's done this. Back in his Spiderman days, hiding in the library was never anything special. Being a vigilante made it hard to arrive on time, so hiding in the library was easier than entering class late.

Approaching his locker, his dialed in his combination and opened the container. Pulling out the textbooks he'll need for the day, he simply placed them on top of an unhidden, incriminating red and blue suit. In his early web-slinging days, he had designed his school bag to had a hidden pocket so he could hide his costume and a spare set of civvies. Now, he could be bothered to even fold his suit and place it in its correct place, leaving it open for the world to see.

Closing his locker, he turned in pursuit for the library. Pulling out his phone, he checked the time and determined that he had 20 minutes before the bell. Sitting down at the farthest table he could find, he pulled out some forgotten homework.

It wasn't long before he heard the bell, well the bell for homeroom. He ended up skipping first. He didn't know why, but he could bring himself to get up and move. Recollecting the papers and books scattered about the table, he forced himself to leave the quiet of the library. Locking his gaze to the ground, he went into autopilot and began to walk to his next class. Ever since the incident, he hadn't looked anyone in the eyes, at least voluntarily. Peter just couldn't bring himself to raise his head. To make things worst, in the non-existence rush this morning, he had forgotten to bring his headphones. All around him, he could hear their whispers.

"Hey look its _that_ kid."

"Wasn't he that nerdy kid with the camera? What happen to him?"

"Did you see his wrists? God, what a _freak_!"

He could hear the sound of pity and disgust in their voices. No matter how hard he tried, he could never block their comments out. He forced himself to listen because what the had said was true. He was a freak.

Entering his class, he fell back into his new found pattern.

Normally he would talk to random kids till the teacher told them to be quiet, but now he sat in silence, watching them with envy. When was the last time he truly felt happy? Why could those kids just smile and talk? Why couldn't he have someone? Anyone one? Then he remembered. When people get close to him, they die. It was this simple fact that made him grow numb to his environment, it's what causes him to block everyone out. He couldn't remember if anything had happened in his classes. He was on autopilot. Enter class, sit down, ignore everything, leave class, repeat. The only thing keeping him grounded was when he remembered his thoughts from this morning on the roof.

'Would it be better if I just disappeared?' He thought. 'Should I do it in costume to let everyone know that Spiderman had failed? That he, abandoned them? At least, then they'll know I'm not a hero but instead a murder. Or maybe I just need to die as Peter Parker and let the world wonder where their hero went? Let them keep their hope.'

These thoughts had come and go all day. It wasn't in till 8th period did he begin to focus but not for the reason he wanted. Despite this being his favorite subject, science, he was more focused on getting out of there as fast as possible. The reason being you may ask? Two words, Flash Thomson.

He slid his bag onto his shoulder. Gripping his phone, he checked the time. 2:24 p.m. One minute. He would wait one minute. Class didn't get out till 3:00 p.m. but the seniors got out five minutes early and he wasn't one to give up on a free head start with an easy escape route.

Hearing the announcement releasing the twelfth graders, Peter shot up from his seat and raced down the hall.

The only problem is he didn't think of was that the teacher would send a kid to bring him back. Much less that kid being Flash, who had no intention of doing what the teacher had instructed. Running as fast as he could, he slammed against the front doors and ran outside.

Before he knew it, he had tripped on what he soon discovered to be the foot of Flash's follower. He felt himself get picked up by the collar and get dragged through the crowd if students trying to get home into an abandoned area of the school.

"Well, what do we have here?" Flash began, circling him as a predator does to mess with its prey. "Because to me, it looks like we caught ourself an emo fag."

With that, Flash proceeded to grab Peter's left wrist and dig his nails into the newest cuts. He could feel the blood run down his arm.

"Tried to run Parker? Better luck next time." Peter closed his eyes, but he could see the grin on Flash's face. Upset with the lack of response, Flash slammed him to the wall. Letting him fall to the ground, Flash began to kick him in the stomach. Unfortunately for Peter, he felt a hard kick hit his rib followed by a small cracking sound. Before he knew it, two more of Flash's lackeys showed up. Pulled into a slumped standing position, he felt someone griped the back of his head.

"Look at me you piece of shit." Opening his eyes, he unwillingly looked Flash in the eyes before receiving a powerful punch to the face. Falling to the ground, he was met with another kick to the ribs. Screaming in pain, he heard Flash laugh.

"Its time to end this." He thought to himself, only to have much darker one follow. 'But what good does escaping do? This will happen tomorrow anyway. Maybe I should just end it.' Did Peter really want to give Flash the satisfaction of killing him? It would be easier. If Flash killed him, he couldn't chicken out since he's not the one pulling the trigger. Feeling another kick to his ribs, he decided that he'll save death for another day. In his attempt to escape, he grabbed Flash's leg and pull. Losing his balance, Flash landed hard and screams. With Flash's friends distracted, he grabs his bag and fled as fast as he could.

As soon as he takes off, the others snap out of their stupor and begin to chase as if it were a game. Peter could hear the thundering sounds of Flash and his friend as their footsteps grew closer. Cutting through an alley, he made it onto one of the many sidewalks in New York. He had no doubt in his mind that they would follow him, but maybe, just maybe he could loose them. The only problem was that there were too many people in the way for him to get the distance he wanted. Bumping into everyone didn't help either. Eventually, Flash caught up to him. Lucky, if it could be called that, Flash decided to punch him hard enough to have him get thrown again the glass doors of whatever building he just crashed into. Vision blurred, he looked up to see Flash's shocked expression and see him hightail out of here, where ever 'here' may be.

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End of Chapter Two

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 **Well then… here's chapter two.**

 **Probably won't be this long in the future. Or as frequent with uploads.**

 **What do you think will happen? Find out in the next chapter!**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	3. Discovery

**Discovery**

Tony had been up in his lab for 8 hours straight while working on his newest version of the Iron Man suit. Black Sabbath had been blaring through the surround sound until Jarvis interrupted.

"Sir, it seems there has been a fight on the ground level of the building. The assailant has fled the scene, but the victim of the event is currently injured and unconscious."

"Alright, Jarvis. Send Bruce to the ground floor with his medical bag and a small med team. I'll be there in a second."

"Already on it Sir."

Wiping the grease from his hands, he leaves his lab in pursuit of the injured person. Upon arriving, he pushed the people surrounding away from the injured person. "Jarvis! You could've told me the victim, as you put it, was a _kid_!"

"I apologies Sir. That information did not seem pertinent at the moment." Annoyed with Jarvis' response, he turned back to the kid before him. Crouching down by the kid, he checked his pulse. He's alive, just out cold. Waiting for Bruce and the med team to arrive, he looks up to see the door. "Hey Jarvis, mind telling what happened to my door," He asked cautiously.

"The person before you had been thrown through the glass by his attacker." Upon hearing Jarvis' reply, Tony just stop for a moment. Having the need to confirm that information, he asked, "You're telling me this kid got thrown through the door?"

"Yes, Sir." Before Tony could probe for more information, he saw Bruce exit the elevator with his medical bag. "Hey Bruce, little help over here."

Moving around Tony to get to the kid, Bruce's medical training kicked in and he starts by taking the kid's backpack off. "Tony," He started, not hiding the concern in his voice. "What happened here?"

"I don't know! I was up in the lab when Jarvis tells me this kid just got thrown through the door." Tony begins, pointing at the shattered door right next to them. Seeing the confusion on his face he adds, "Ya, I know that doesn't make since. I'm just going to watch what the security cameras captured once I know this kids fine."

Refocused on the kid before him, Bruce gently presses on Peter's chest. "Tony, we're going to have to move this kid up to the medical wing. From the look of it, he seems to have 3 maybe 4 broken ribs and a couple are bruised."

Understanding, he signals two on-site medical professionals who had finally arrived to come over with a gurney in order to transfer the kid safely.

Once they stabilized the kid in a medical bed on the 5th floor, Bruce began to treat his injuries with the help of the on-site medical staff. Sliding off the kids shirt, he froze. Bruce had seen many injuries in the past but this hurt him. If he had to guess, this kid was about 14 maybe 15 and now lied before him with 4 broken ribs, 6 bruised, a 3 giant scar running down his chest, blackish purple bruises stretching across his stomach, back and sides, skin dotted with shards of glass, and what made Bruce feel ill the most, tons of cuts on his wrists, upper leg maybe thigh and waist. Some cuts looked old and faded while others looked new and fresh. Looking at his left wrist, he could tell those were the newest and were a target when he got attacked do to the fingernail markings on the reopened bleeding cuts on his left wrist. Taking a deep breath, he began to dress the wounds, all the while wondering what would make a kid this young think of self-harm.

After about two hours, Bruce had set and wrapped his ribs, removed most of the glass, and cleaned his wrists. Leaving the kid to rest, Bruce decided to head to Tony's lab. "Hows the kid?" Tony question the moment he entered the room.

Bruce shrugged uncomfortably, "He's got 4 broken ribs, 6 bruised ones, major bruising on his stomach, back and sides." He hesitated, which in turn cause Tony to grow anxious. "He also has a multitude of self-inflicted cuts on his wrists, upper leg and waist."

Upon hearing that last part, Tony shifted from foot to foot. Suddenly, with a stronger urge to find out who this kid was, he ignored Bruce's earlier protest of respecting the kids privacy and walked up to one of him holographic computers. Opening up the New York's citizen's database, he began to cross reference the kids features, height and estimated age to see if they could get a hit. Bruce protested again as he watched the monitor from behind Tony as he began to weed out candidates. After about five minutes, they had only one person left. Peter Parker.

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End of Chapter Three

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 **Apparently I lied in the last chapter. Hopefully, I can stick to the chapter a day thing I seem to be doing.**

 **Hopefully, you liked the chapter!**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	4. First Encounter

**First Encounter**

Peter woke up with hazy vision. Slowly sitting up, he found himself to be in what look like a fancy hospital room. As the realization hit him, Peter remembers that his costume was lying loose in his bag. Beginning to panic, he got out of the bed in pursuit of the item. Getting one leg out of the bed, he noticed the door in front of him open. To his surprise, instead of a nurse or doctor, before him stood the one and only Tony Stark.

"Hey kid, how are you feeling?" His idol asked. Peter, internally fangirling, just blinked and stupidly say. "You're Tony Stark."

"I guess I am. You got a name kid?" He replied, no longer in the doorway, but now leaning on the wall next to. Too shell shocked to remember anything, subconsciously put on his Spider-Man personally.

"Well, considering who you are, oh mighty Iron Man, shouldn't you already know?" His tone was very light hearted and jokey. Peter hesitated as he began to have a silent internal battle trying to remember when he last sounded like that. Unaware of Peter's struggle, Tony, amused by the response, made his confession.

"I like you kid, and your right, I did a little research on you. So yes, I know your name, I just want to see if you know your name." Peter expression changed from the rare cheery one he donned back to his normal blank stare. Tony didn't know what he said to cause such an expression but stay quite waiting for the kid's reply.

Peter, thoughts now glued to the memory of Gwen, tried to refocus as he stuttered out "P-Peter. Peter Parker." *1

Nodding, Tony tried to turn the subject to something that would remove Peter's hurt expression. "So, Peter, got someone you need to call? You've been out cold for a couple of hours. It's currently 8:57 pm, so that would be 6 hours to be specific."

Once said, Tony realized he hit another nerve. "No," Peter says. "No one I need to call." Tony watched as Peter hesitated. Then he heard him continue in a soft, spite whisper, "The Orphanage doesn't care if I come back or not."

"Well then, I guess you're free to join us for dinner," Tony said in a happy voice. "Us?" Peter questioned.

"Oh yeah. Bruce and Cap are upstairs on the Avenger level. Black Widow and Hawkeye won't be back for another weeks and Thor is in Asgard, but three out of six is still pretty good, considering."

"Uh, sure b-"

"Great, let's go!" Tony grinned, as he interrupted Peter.

Trying again, Peter asked, "Umm, can I get a shirt maybe? Also, where's my backpack?" He tried to say that second part as calmly and as normal as possible, trying not to raise an alarm that something out of the ordinary hid inside. Tony not seeming to pick up on his tone replied, "Bruce grabbed your bag so no one would go through it, well so I wouldn't go through it. But can you blame me for being curious? As for a shirt, I'm sure I can find something." Watching him leave the room, Peter glanced down to see the bandages wrapped around his wrists. Running a finger over the gauze, he remembered the events from earlier. At this point, he didn't need to ask where he was. He was at Avengers Tower. Peter didn't hear the door opened, but he felt his spidey sense go off as he grabbed the shirt flight gets his way.

"Nice catch." Tony complimented.

Quickly slipping on the shirt, Peter got out of the bed and followed Tony to the elevator. Stepping into the metal box, he watched the doors close. Feeling the elevator raise, he prepared himself for what awaited.

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End of Chapter Four

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 **Yay! Another chapter!**

 ***1 In case you didn't get the reference, in the first Amazing Spiderman movie, Gwen ask Peter his name despite knowing it to see if he knew it.**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	5. Awkward Conversations

**Awkward Conversations**

The elevator eventually arrived at the designated floor. Peter stood back and watched Tony leave the metal box. Following, he stepped out to what seem to be a living room of sorts. The elevator was position in the middle of the wall, opposite to other which was made completely out of glass. To his left, a couch and chairs sat facing a flat screen TV. Left of the TV lied a corridor that lead into another area. To his right, he could see a bar that connected to a kitchen. His eyes following Tony, he quickly spotted Bruce Banner sitting at the bar and Captain America on the other side, currently cooking pasta in the kitchen area. Internally fangirling, Peter stood frozen, looking upon his idols.

"Bruce, Capsicle, this is Peter." Tony began, indicating to each person as he said their name. "Peter, meet Captain America and Bru-"

Tony was soon interrupted by Peter who quickly and excitedly said, "You're Bruce Banner! I've read all your work on biochemist, nuclear physics, and gamma radiation."

Tony, beaming with joy, turns to Bruce before he could reply to Peter's outburst. "See Bruce, I told you, he's totally perfect! He likes science and knows who you are!"

"Tony, you don't have to sell me on the kid. Never did I say I didn't want him hanging around." Bruce stated, turning his attention back to Peter. "Though I am surprised you've read my research."

Becoming more comfortable with the situation, he eventually found himself seated on one of the bar stools talking about science and other nerdy things with Tony and Bruce while Captain America, whom he soon learned to call Steve, attempted to ignore them. After about twenty-so minutes, Steve called them to the table, which sat in the kitchen off next to the right wall. Relocating, Peter found him sitting on the end on Tony's right and across from Steve, with Bruce on Tony's left. Peter watched Steve bring over the pasta, which had a homemade puttanesca sauce, some garlic bread, and a side salad. Digging into the food presented, they continued their conversation as normal. It wasn't until Steve spoke did Peter remember why he was there in the first time. Peter had been having such a good time that he'd forgotten everything that had happened.

"Not trying to ruin the mood, but Peter, if you don't mind me asking, what happened?" Steve didn't need to elaborate for Peter to understand what he meant. He wasn't sure if Bruce, whom he assumed fixed him up, told Tony and Steve about his cuts so he figured he meant the 'Oh how did you find yourself unconscious at Avengers Tower.' Taking a deep breath, he began.

"Apparently I'm everyone's favorite punching bag," He said, more sarcastically than intended. But he didn't mind. By being sarcastic, he could protect himself. It was easier. If he was serious, then it makes what happened real. If he makes it a joke, it hurts less. Joking made it feel less real like it didn't happen, that it doesn't hurt. By being sarcastic, it makes recalling the events less painful. "After school, Flash and his friends decided to have a little fun. I managed to escape, only to have them chase me all the way here. It's nothing new, they do it all the time."

Peter looked up to see the pain and sympathy in the others eyes. Peter knew as well as they did that he shouldn't be okay with this. But they don't understand that he deserves this. After everything, he's done. After everyone he's killed, he deserves this kind of punishment.

Steve, realizing Peter was waiting for a reply, began slowly, "Have you talked to anyone about this? A parent or guardian? Being bullied isn't something you should just put up with son."

If there wasn't a table between them, Peter felt as though Steve would have placed a hand on his shoulder. Taking a bite of pasta, he thought of a reply that would be accepted. But there wasn't one. "The school doesn't care, and to the Orphanage," He spat the word out with venom, "Pff, it would be easier for them if I died. So no, I haven't talked to anyone about this."

Sending the table into silence, Tony surprisingly enough took control of the conversation and brought it back to something more cheery. Bringing the topic back to science, more specifically the science of the Matrix and whether or not the real world is just another layer of the program and if Neo isn't the one, but instead Agent Smith, which in turn lead to a lengthy debate. Finishing dinner with little to no drama, Peter helped Steve clear the table. Unsure what to do with himself afterward, he heard Tony suggest a Matrix marathon which both Bruce and Peter agree to. Steve, deciding to retire to his room or floor, left the science bros to nerd out.

About half way into the second movie, Peter had finally fallen asleep, head buried in Tony's lap. Tony pausing the movie, turned to Bruce. "You know what we have to do, right?" He asked while petting Peter's hair.

"If you want to adopt the kid, I can't stop you," Bruce said with a soft tone. "Honestly, if you didn't, I probably would've. This kid…" Bruce paused. When he became the Hulk, Bruce had tried to end his life. Even if not in the same context, he could connect to the kid. "Tony, we have to help this kid. You heard him during dinner, and his wrists."

"I know," Tony said in a calm and gentle voice. Careful to not wake Peter, Tony leaned over and placed a kiss on Bruce's nose. "Hows it feels to be a dad?"

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End of Chapter Five

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 **Apologies for the delay of the chapter. Luck was not on my side. First I sprain my ankle, then my computer died. Hopefully, you guys go by the better late than never mind set!**

 **Also, I hope you aren't too mad I went with the Tony x Bruce ship. I felt it was appropriated. With Civil War coming up, I couldn't bring my self to write Tony x Steve. To much heart break.**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	6. The Breakdown

**The Breakdown**

 _A bomb, a blade, claws, drowning, an antidote, a knife, a gun, a fall. That's how they say they die. All unrelated, all preventable. But that's not how they died. They died because of him. Because of Spiderman. Because of Peter. A bullet that took his uncle's life, because he couldn't just take responsibility and be there for his aunt and uncle when they needed him. A blade attached to Norman Osborn's hover-board that Peter flung his way after failing to save him. A bomb that took his best friend's life after he refused to help Harry save his own life; webbing the bomb to his chest instead of giving up a sample of blood. Claws, by letting Captain Stacy risk his life to give him an antidote that ended both George's and Doctor Connor's life. Drowning, by him, deciding not to help save Doctor Octavius from his own creation; ending his life to do the control of another. A fall that could have been prevented. She didn't have to be there. He asked for her help but then was too late to save her. He let her die. He was too slow. She shouldn't have been there. HE COULD HAVE SAVED HER. HE COULD HAVE SAVED THEM ALL. Another knife. Another time he was too slow. A stupid robbery which in turn robbed him from his last remaining family. The one person he hadn't yet failed._

 _Uncle Ben… Norman Osborn… Captain George Stacy… Doctor Connor… Doctor Octavius… Harry Osborn… Gwen Stacy… Aunt May… These name swirled in his head. Their faces flashed before him. He failed them. He killed them. It was all his fault. If he had never tried to play the hero… If he never tried to get revenge… If he never tried to find the truth… If… If… If he never tried to save the day, tried to help, they could all be alive. Saving others, making scientific breakthroughs, going to college, living their lives. He robbed them of this. He damned them to this fate. He should be dead, not them. This was his mess, his fault. And they had to die because of it. It's his fault. It's his fault. It's his fault!_

Waking up in a cold sweat, Peter jolted awake. Fresh, hot tears ran down his face. Cold clammy hands shook and quivered, trying to grip the fabric of the couch. Hyperventilating, Peter brought his knees to his chest and cried, in no shape or form trying to calm down. The memories and dreams were so vivid. It's his fault. After what felt like years, Peter calmed down, not bothering with the tears trailing down his face. He didn't deserve to still be here. He didn't deserve the kindness of the Avengers. The kindness of real heroes. Taking a deep breath, he looked around the room. He was alone. Tony and Bruce were gone. Looking to his left, he saw a plate of food and a note. Reaching for the note, it read:

 _Tony, Bruce and I were called to the Helicarrier for classified business._

 _Be back in an hour._

 _Left some breakfast for you on the table._

 _-Steve_

Setting down the note, he turned his attention to the food before him. Three pancakes sat before him. Nothing out of the ordinary, that is in till he noticed what sat next to them. It was a small detail that shouldn't have made him start crying harder. But it was the same. On the side of the plate sat a single strawberry and two blueberries. It was such a small detail, but it was the exact thing Aunt May did for him countless times in the past. Pushing the plate away, he grabbed his backpack that sat by the couch. He didn't know how it got there, but he didn't care. Ripping it open, he pulled the mask of his costume out.

Five Minutes Before

Tony had been working in his lab ever since they'd gotten back from the helicarrier. Peter had still been asleep when they had arrived, so he told Jarvis to alert him when the teen awoke. It wasn't even ten minutes when Jarvis spoke.

"Sir, Peter has awoken. He seems to be in a high level of destress. Would you care for me to display a live video stream?"

Panicked, Tony simple replied, "Ya, do that."

Turning to face the panel on the wall, Tony watched in silence as he saw Peter absolutely break down. From waking up to the crying to the reacting to the food. Tony completely froze when he saw Peter, face streaked with tears, reach for his bag. In silence, his watched Peter rip the bag open and pull out Spiderman's mask. Peter gripped the mask in his hand. He seemed to start crying harder, which ended up breaking Tony's heart. He had never met Spidey, but from what he heard, he would've never expected this. A fifteen-year-old kid, melting down in his living room, unaware of his surroundings, was, in fact, Spiderman. He watched the kid cry harder as he hugged his backpack, which Tony could only guess contained the rest of his costume. It wasn't in till he saw the mask hit the ground did he tell Jarvis to cut the feed. He couldn't watch this kid continue this way. He couldn't watch his kid continue this way. Getting up, he ran to the door in pursuit of the broken boy he swore he was going to help.

* * *

End of Chapter Six

* * *

" **Don't kill me!" She yelled panicked as she hid in fear.**

 **Hope this wasn't too dark for ya! Had to keep it interesting somehow.**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	7. It's Okay

**It's Okay**

Peter sobbed into his backpack. It's his fault. It's his fault. Those words rang in his head as he clung to himself. Tears, still streaming down his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision. It wasn't until he felt someone bring him into a hug did he remember what had happened. When was the last time he allowed himself to break down like this? To accept the touch of other? To let himself be so… vulnerable. He didn't care. He didn't need to know where he was, or who the other person was, he just clung to them. They were his lifeline. His bag had rolled off the couch, but Peter didn't notice, much like the forgotten mask. All that matter to Peter in that moment was his lifeline.

Peter buried his head into the other's chest. He had stopped crying but didn't bother to speak. Instead, he opted to listen to the soft words being whispered in his ear. Eventually, Peter realized who the other person was. Tony. He was breaking down, crying his eyes out, in the arms of Tony Stark. With that realization, Peter went to pull away as fast as he could. But he didn't. Couldn't. Peter didn't know if it was because he didn't want to or was too tired, but either way, he let himself stay in the embrace. Sinking into Tony's chest, he could hear the sound of his heart, beating loud and steady, but not alone. It was accompanied by the faint hum of the arc reactor. He could feel the vibration it produced, lulling him to sleep.

Tony didn't move when Peter finally drifted. No. He just sat there, holding the broken boy in his arms. Rocking him back in forth, holding him like the child he was. He wanted Peter to know that he didn't have to deal with this alone. Tony swore he was going to help this kid. _His_ kid.

After about twenty minutes or so, Tony picked up the younger boy and carried him down the hall to a guest room. Opening a door, he placed Peter down on the bed. He looked so small and fragile. Pulling the blanket to cover his shoulder, Tony left the room. Upon re-entering the living room, he gently picked up the Spiderman mask. The fabric went limp in his hand. This kid. My kid, was in fact, Spiderman. Grabbing the backpack in the other hand, he brought the items of interest into Peter's room. Setting the mask on the side table and the backpack by the bed, he left the room, leaving his kid to sleep.

* * *

End of Chapter Seven

* * *

 **Sorry, it's shorter than the other chapters. But sometimes short and sweet is better.**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	8. It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better

**It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better**

Peter awoke from his stressed-induced sleep. Despite having just gotten up, he still feel emotionally tired. He didn't want to get up. Pulling the blanket back over his head, he tried to fall back asleep, with little success. After about 20 minutes of laying there in silence, he finally decided to get on with life. Sitting up, he looked to the bed's side table on his left. Glancing at the clock, it read 4:53 pm. Sighing, he began to get out of the bed, only to have his eye catch the red lump of fabric sitting next to the clock. Upon seeing the mask, Peter began to cry again. It wasn't in till that moment did he remember the event from earlier. The dream. The costume. Tony. Everything. Grabbing the mask, he hurled it to the other side of the room and curled into a ball. He pulled the blanket over him and wept. He just wanted to end it. End everything. Looking up from the bed, he spotted a bathroom which connected to the room. Hands shaking, he leaped out of the bed and grabbed his bag.

Entering the bathroom, he swung his bag in front of him and rummaged through it. Within seconds, he found the item of interest. Completely overlooking the costume that taunted him, he pulled out a small silver razor. Wrapping his left hand around the object, he felt in cut into his palm. It wasn't enough to draw blood, but he could feel the string of skin splitting. Transferring the razor into his right hand, he places it upon his wrist. He his hands began to shake more so than before. He could feel the razor nick the skin, creating tiny cut upon the older faded lines. Taking a breath, Peter began to draw a straight line on his wrist. Left to right. A thin horizontal line appeared, adding to the collection. It wasn't deep enough to draw blood but that didn't matter. It was about the release it gave. Ghosting the blade over his wrist, he pressed a little harder, focusing on the pain. The feeling. He watched the blood bubble up, filling the line. He stared as it pooling on his wrist, sitting there still. Tilting his wrist, he felt the crimson liquid run down his skin. The warm liquid trailed down to his elbow as he made a third cut. This cut was more diagonal than the others, but still not enough to do any real damage.

It wasn't in till he fourth cut, did the door to the bathroom break open. Dropping the razor in shock, he was face to face with Steve, Tony closes behind. Clutching his hands, he began to cry harder and hug himself. His head touched his knees as Peter attempted to shield himself from their gaze. Of course, they would know if he tried this. He should have know better, Jarvis was hooked into the entire building. He felt someone hug him from behind. Trying to comfort him. He didn't deserve this. Why are they being so nice? Why are they concerning themselves over him? Why? Why? Why? That's all that Peter could think. They were the real heroes. It was their job to protect the innocent. But Peter wasn't innocent. He shouldn't be receiving their protection. So why? _Why_?

Tears blurred his vision as he felt someone reach for his wrists. There was a quick sting of hydrogen peroxide followed by the scratching feeling of gauze being wrapped around his left wrist. Too weak to fight them, he felt himself get picked up from the bloody bathroom floor and cared back into the bedroom. Peter could feel the bed bend underneath his weight as the younger was set upon it. Crying to himself, he grabbed the pillow. Curling around it, Peter buried his head and eventually fell back asleep for the second time that day.

10 Minutes Before

Tony, Steve, and Bruce had been in the living room area prior to Peter waking up. Steve had been busy making an early dinner while Tony and Bruce were cuddling on the couch going over some papers. Everything had been quiet since Peter's panic attack from this morning.

"Tony, don't you think you should tell Peter we're going to adopt him?" Bruce asked casually as he filled out the next section of the adoption paper.

"Let it be a surprise!" Tony answer cheerfully. "Besides, what person in their right mind would turn down the option to live with the Avengers!"

"Most normal people." Tony heard Steve reply from the kitchen. "Good thing he's not normal. Normal's boring," he returned before refocusing on the paper. The silence didn't last long before Bruce mentions the topic the others had been avoiding since it was first mentioned.

"Is anyone going to bring up the fact that we have a suicidal fifteen-year-old, who just happened to be Spiderman, asleep in the next room?"

Silence. Ever since this morning, Tony had been unsure on what to do. He wanted to help his kid, but he didn't know how. It's not like they could go to a therapist about this and it's not like they any of them could do anything about this. They may be the Avengers, but even they had their limit. Tony was about to answer Bruce when Jarvis decided to beat him to the point.

"Sirs, It seems that young Parker is awake. He seems to be locked within the bathroom. He is in high distress and appear to be injured via self-infliction."

No one bothered to reply. As if reading the others mind's, everyone simultaneously got up and ran to Peter's room. Steve arrived first. After the failed attempt of opening the door normally, he slammed his body against the wood until it swung open upon it hinges. Once the door was open, Tony pushed past Steve to see a completely broken boy. Hugging him, Tony tried his best to calm the other down. Bruce, medical supplies in hand, crouched down in front of the kid. Cleaning and dressing his wounds, he left Tony to comfort Peter. Peter just cried in Tony's arms for about four minutes before Tony asked Steve to carry the younger to the bed. Once Peter fell asleep, Tony remained at his side, petting his hair, while Bruce and Steve swept the room of any sharp items and cleaned the bathroom. Eventually, they left Peter to sleep. Finding themselves back in the living room, they sat in silence, pondering on what they'll do to help their kid.

* * *

End of Chapter Eight

* * *

 **Sorry for such a delay on the newest chapter! Got a bit writers block.**

 **If you guys, as the reader, have any idea or suggestion for later chapters, I'm all ears.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	9. A New Day

**A New Day**

Rolling over, Peter stretched his arms above his head before subconsciously proceeding to grab a pair of glasses that no longer existed. Upon not feeling them on the side table, he slowly raised his head and opened his eyes. The sun bled in through the curtains. His eyes, still blurred with the remanence of sleep, stung due to the light's intrusion. Looking over at the side table, he thought to himself, where are they? Shaking his head, Peter slowly rose from the bed.

Upon sitting up, he looked around the room. Where was he? Beginning to panic, he reached over for his backpack. Ripping it open, notice noticed the lack of his suit. Taking a breath, he realized he wasn't even wearing his own shirt. Rummaging around, found his spare shirt. It had become a habit for him to have a second shirt hidden with his red and blue spandex. Pulling it out, he slipped off the sweat covered one he'd been wearing and slid his own.

Looking around the room, trying to spot an exit, he felt his Spidey sense go off. Over the four months, he's been Spiderman, that was the one thing he trusted most. Trying to figure out what caused his alarm to go off, he was soon startled by the British voice appearing from thin air.

"Sir, Tony has requested your presence on the 49th floor."

Regaining his composer, he realized one thing. He was at Stark Tower.

* * *

End of Chapter Nine

* * *

 **Here is the new version of chapter nine!**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	10. At a Loss For Memories

**At a Loss For Memories**

He was at Stark Tower.

His suit was gone.

And he had no way of contacting his Aunt.

And couldn't remember anything since Friday after talking to Gwen and Harry.

"Sir?" The British A.I spoke. Peter had hacked into him a couple times in the past to erase video evidence, he was sure he could again if he could get his hands on a phone or computer.

"Yes, Jarvis?"

"Tony has requested you join him on the 49th floor. He wishes to speak to you about the last two days." Had he been here two days? How could he forget meeting /the/ Tony Stark? Sure he would have preferred to meet Bruce Banner, but he wasn't picky. Still trying to remember he heard Jarvis speak again.

"Sir, are you alright."

"I'm fine Jarvis. Tell Tony I'll be there in a moment." Standing up from the bed, Peter made his way through the bedroom, into the living room-esque area, and to the elevator. While in the metal box, one thing still bugged him. If he was here as Peter, where were his glasses? Normally, he would wear them when not in costume because they had sentimental value and helped keep his secret identity. Was he hear as Spiderman then? He doubted it. Even if it was Tony Stark, why would he tell him that? Sure he is Ironman, but he doesn't have a great track record on secrets.

Taking a deep breath, he watched the doors of the metal death trap open. Stepping out onto solid ground, he looked around the room. It appeared to be a lab of some sort. Walking in, he saw Tony working on his Ironman suit or, at least, a version of it. "Hey, Peter! Glad to see your up and about! You've been out for a while."

Well, time to put on the act of his life. While internally fangirling, he tried to reply as calmly as possible. "Hey, how long was I out?"

"Well, someone seems happier!" What was that supposed to mean? Was Peter not happy before he lost his memory? "Well, to answer your question," He spun around to look at a monitor, "You've been out for... well, I don't really know. It was last night, and it's 3:23 now so I'm sure you could figure it out."

So what now? If it was three in the afternoon, then is must be Saturday already. That means he's only missed one day. If that's the case, he should probably tell Tony that he can't remember rather than play it off.

"Hey, umm... I wasn't going to say this at first, but..." He hesitated.

"How about we sit down? You probably know what we're going to talk about." He watched as Tony walked over to him and set a hand on his shoulder. This was not how he thought Tony Stark, a playboy philanthropist, would act. He felt Tony lead him into another area of the lab to a couch. Both sitting down, he wondered, what did he do to get himself in this mess? Did Tony finally realise he's been hacking into Jarvis? Of is this about that time he broke a window fighting Lizard?

"Umm... Tony, I need to tell you that I-" He was interrupted.

"How long?" It was short, simple and to the point.

"How long what?" Did he mean him being Spiderman? Or had he been hacking Jarvis? Or something he didn't even remember?

"You know what I mean Peter." He felt Tony grab his wrist gently as if made of glass, and turned it over. "How long have you been cutting?"

* * *

End of Chapter Ten

* * *

 **Oh, what shall Peter ever do to get out of this?**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	11. More Confusion

**More Confusion**

"How long have you been cutting?"

Peter didn't know how to respond. He was cutting again? He hadn't done that for years, but the proof was right in front of him. He needs to buy himself some more time to figure out what was happening. He never though he would have to do this, but he couldn't think of anything else. Forcing tears to well up in his eyes, he dipped his head down and began to cry. Tony, seeming to have bought it for the mean time, wrapped his arm around the smaller person and hugged him tight. Trying to keep up the act, Peter try to think of why he would have ever cut in the first place. Soon, he began to say whatever popped into his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He sobbed. Think to himself as he repeated those words he realized his lost more of his memory than originally believed. As Tony rubbed his back, he began to mumble words like 'I'm sorry, It's my fault. Everything's my fault.' Just anything he could think to say in his incoherent speech. After what felt to be five minutes, Peter believed he had held the act long enough.

Focusing himself to relax, he rested his head on Tony's chest and pretended to fall asleep.

"Jarvis, can you call Bruce and Capsicle up?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bruce Banner's here? And who is Capsicle? Thoughts raced in his head as he shifted in Tony's lap, gripping on to him. If Tony was trapped under his own weight, then he would be able to hear whatever Tony needed to say to the others.

"Tony, Jarvis said you needed us?" Spoke voice number 1.

"How's Peter?" Questioned voice number 2.

"He's fine-ish."

"What do you mean by ish?" Voice number 1 asked.

"I mean, I asked him about his cuts, and he broke down crying. I don't know what to do." Tony looked down at the boy 'asleep' on his lap. Petting his hair, he turned to Bruce. "Bruce, could you speak with him when he wakes up?"

"Sure Tony."

Voice number 1 spoke. "Do you want me to carry Peter back to his room?"

"No thanks, Steve. I want to be here when he wakes up." Peter swore internally. If Tony stayed with him, how will he know what's happening and what has forgotten.

* * *

End of Chapter Eleven

* * *

 **Ok, I want to know, how long do you want to see Peter pretend to have his memories?**

 **If you like, please leave a review, constructive criticism and suggestions always welcome.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!**


	12. Author's Note

**Author's Note...**

* * *

Awhile ago, I decided to reread the previous chapters. SO MANY ERRORS! The Grammar! The Plot Holes! It hurts!

So... I've gone back and revised everything. _Everything._ Most Chapters and things are sorta the same, but I have added info and changed dialogue. I would _highly_ advise rereading. If you don't want to reread all 11 chapter that's fine too, you just might get a little lot I don't know.

If you have an ideas or request for future chapters let me know. I'll explain Peters memories lost soon. But I want to know, how long should I drag out him pretending?

* * *

 **-CollectiveMinds**


	13. The Talk And Psychogenic Amnesia

**The Talk And Psychogenic Amnesia**

* * *

Peter focused on keeping his breathing steady as he felt Tony's hand run through his hair. 'Ok,' he thought, 'First, what do I know? I turned 14 on October 14. It's now December 5, 2014. I've had my powers for about a month. Uncle Ben dead.' He hesitated at that last thought. Uncle Ben just died. 'Okay, umm I recently defeated my first major villain Chameleon, what else?' Peter tried his hardest to fill in the blanks in his memory. How could he even know how much time had been lost if the brunette couldn't even figure out the date?

As Peter rested there, he thought about Aunt May and Gwen and how worried they must be to why he was at Stark Tower. Everything was so confusing. 'Had I collapse as Peter and Tony happened to take pity? Does he know I'm Spider-Man? Is that way I'm here? He _is_ Ironman.' Taking a deep breath, he felt Tony tense. 'Shit! Does he know I'm awake?' trying not to freak out too much, Peter tried to continue his sleeping act.

"Peter are you awake?" Peter realized his act had failed when he heard the anxiety yet stern voice question him. Hoping to continue the wounded act till he could remember something, he nodded into the other's shirt. He refused to look Tony in the eyes, at least for the moment. "Peter, you calm enough to talk, or do you need a moment."

He could hear the concern in the older of the two's voice. Tony Stark was generally worried. What did Peter do to cause this? Taking a moment to formulate a plan, he nodded once again, now ready to answers questions about things he had no memory of.

"Let get the awkward one out of the way, how long have you been self-harming for."

"Three years I think." He murmured into Tony's shirt. Despite the muffled reply, Tony hear it loud and clear. With a delicate and uncomfortable voice, he continued. "Any reason why?"

"Coping mechanism. Helped me think. It-it gave me control. Comfort."

Hugging the boy more so than before, Tony asked his last question. "How long have you been Spiderman? And why didn't you ever ask the Avengers for help or-or something? You're 15! I'm not judging you based on your age but it is dangerous regardless.

'What!' Peter thought. 'I'm 15! When did that happen! I lost a year of my life! Should I tell Tony? Or, No! I need to tell Tony."

"T-Tony? What's today's date?"

"Please don't change the topic."

"No, I need to know."

"Will you answer my question?"

"Yes, sure whatever, but I need to know!"

Tony shifted from beneath Peter to look at his watch. "It's January 29, 2016. I don't know why that way important, but Peter, I need you to focus and answer my question." Tony voice got a bit stricter but still caring.

Peter held his breath. 2016. That's 2 years, well not really, but still. "Ummm, Tony, I-I-I..." He couldn't finish. "I don't remember anything from before December 5, 2014."

"What."

Tony didn't know how to react. How could Peter not remember anything? He needed Bruce. Moving from out beneath Peter, he laid the boy out on the couch and told him to stay. Walking into his science bro's lab, Tony loudly exclaimed, "Peter doesn't remember anything. Like at all. He has no idea about anything since December 5, 2014. That's two years! Two years Bruce! How that happen? Is that possible? Is Peter lying? What's happening here!"

Standing up, Bruce walked over and set a hand on his husband shoulder. "First, you are going to calm down. Second, yes it is entirely possible. Peter most likely has psychogenic amnesia." Bruce was about to pause when he saw the questioning look on Tony's face. "Psychogenic amnesia is a memory disorder characterized by sudden retrograde, which is the inability to retrieve stored memories leading up to the onset of amnesia. Peter most likely, if he has amnesia, situation-specific amnesia, which is a type of psychogenic amnesia that occurs as a result of a severely stressful event, as part of post-traumatic stress disorder. Which could be linked to everything that's happened in the past two days and much more we don't know about. Are we done with the psychology lesson?" (1)

Tony, not sure about the information he just received, simply nodded his head and turned to head back to Peter.

* * *

Once Tony left the room, Peter gathered his composer and began to search the room. If it was truly January 29, 2016, then he needed to know what he missed. "Hey, Jarvis! Can you pull up any Spiderman related articles between January 29, 2016, and Today?"

"Right on it Sir."

As informed, the monitor before him became flooded with about 20 to 30 articles. "I took the liberty to filter out irrelevant or one with small regard."

"Thanks, Jarvis!"

"Anytime, Sir."

Looking at the monitor, he began to skim the papers. At first, he read an article called **Avengers Assemble** talking about the Avengers and an alien invasion in which he helped out. He even saved Captain America. But he soon came across darker articles.

 **Doc. Ock Drowns After Being Betrayed by the Sinister Six.**

 **Green Goblin Killed by his Own Weapon.**

 **Harry Osborn, New Green Goblin KIA.**

 **Lizard Falls to Death After Failed Attempt to Turn New York into Lizards.**

 **Gwen Stacy, Police Chief Daughter, Dies During Spiderman's Fight with Green Goblin.**

 **Police Chief KIA.**

On the verge of tears, Peter came across one from his school's newspaper. **Why pay Attention to Over Achieving Students and Their Mental State.** Under the title, it talked about students who were considered 'Over Achieving' Or 'Model Student' and had great changes in grades or personality. Reading the article, he soon discovered his self-harm had become common knowledge and his bullying seemed to be encouraged. It focused on other kids, but the part about him hurt. It ruins everything he had become. As he started to cry, he never saw Tony enter the room.

* * *

End of Chapter Twelve

* * *

(1) Please correct me if I'm wrong. Some of this information does, in fact, come from wiki but others information comes from actual scientific websites, but you never know.

Okay, so... Time Line:

Peter's Birthday in this fanfiction is October 14, 2000

Captain America defrosted March 24, 2012

Ironman is revealed May 30, 2012

Peter cuts for the first time, reasons unknown April 12, 2013

Uncle Ben Died November 10, 2014

Peter becomes Spiderman on November 18, 2014

Date Peter thinks it is December 5, 2014

Avengers Assemble/Alien Invasion happens March 7, 2015

Aunt May died January 22, 2015

Current Date January 29, 2016

I will add dates as they come up or are requested.

Hopefully, you guys aren't too mad at the wait. Real life sucks sometimes. Lots of things going on... Anyway, hope you enjoy the sloppy and rushed chapter, the next chapter might be an A/N explaining that I have edited the chapter, warning you now.

Suggestions are always welcome. Don't be afraid to leave a review. Please leave a review, I get bored staring at an empty mail box all day. Plus I'll upload faster. Anyway, Thanks for reading, hope to see you at the next chapter!


	14. Pls read

So, let me start off by saying this story has not been abandoned. I know I have been bad about updating this story. So instead of giving you my grocery list of excuses on why I haven't been updating, I'm just going to tell you my current plan. I've decided that I'm going to re-upload this story and start from the beginning. This means I'm going to rewrite every chapter and upload at least once a month. The storyline may or may not change from where it's at currently. For those who have decided to follow this story, I want to thank you, regardless of when you started reading my work, it means a lot to me.

The re-uploaded version is going to go by the same name, Lost Cause, which will make it easier to find. Hope to see you guys soon!

-CollectiveMinds


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